


Possession Instinct

by LilTheHunger



Category: Books of the Raksura - Martha Wells, Cloud Roads - Martha Wells
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Femdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 09:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilTheHunger/pseuds/LilTheHunger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first book again through Jade's eyes.  It's a queen's instinct to possess, and Moon is everything Jade wants in a consort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession Instinct

     The first time Jade saw Moon, she thought, _I must have him_.

     Because he was beautiful, clinging to the wall above her, eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her, spines tense and wings half-unfurled.  Jade was reminded of some forest creature, shy and fearful, frozen in the instant before flight -- but this was no helpless leafeater.  He was all knotcord and bone beneath burnished black scales, with bronze-banded claws nearly as long as a queen's, and big enough that only a mature queen stood a chance of taking him by force.  (Not that Jade would ever do such a thing.  She had been raised better.)  In the half-breath that Jade had to stare at him, she could not help noticing the faint marring of his scale-pattern here and there:  old scars, new ones, new ones on top of old ones.  One of his disemboweling claws was chipped with recent use, though he would shed the clawshell eventually and be good as new.  And the look in his eyes!  There was no assessment in his gaze, no invitation -- and no intimidation.  He acknowledged her presence, but nothing more.  If she had not breathed a mouthful of his scent -- clean, healthy, deliciously fertile, completely unclaimed -- she would have thought him taken.  She couldn't imagine that sort of assurance in a consort who wasn't.

     But before she could stammer a greeting, he was gone.  He leapt off the wall and away, powerful muscles propelling him skyward, enormous wings angling perfectly to catch an updraft.  Jade found herself on her feet, half-crouched to leap after him, almost before she could catch herself.

     _Consorts aren't toys to be owned or prey to be hunted,_ came Stone's words to her mind.  She had asked him, once when she was a fledgling, how she could take the best and handsomest and most special consort ever.  He hadn't hit her, but the look on his face said clearly that he'd thought about it.  _You get the best consort by being the kind of queen that any consort would want to be taken by._

     And gentle Rain, whom Jade perpetually admired for his ability to endure both Pearl and Stone, had smiled in agreement.  _Find out what he needs,_ he'd said -- advice that Jade had found more useful at the time.  _Give him that.  That's a good way to start._

     So the histories agreed.  And so Jade immediately went to her bower and searched through her stores of belongings for items that might arouse the interest of such a magnificent consort.  Though it was by no means a traditional gift, she left the knife of mountain-borer tooth first, feeling certain that he would like it.  Consort or not, it was clear he was a fighter.  And indeed, when she returned with her second gift, she could smell his hand on its hilt, catch the faint whiff of his breath-ketones on its blade.  He had drawn it, admired it.  Wanted it.  But put it back unclaimed.

     A challenge, then.  Jade grinned to herself.

     For her second offering, Jade left the opposite sort of gift:  something soft and pretty, a deep-purple blanket for his bower bed.  She meant for the gift to send a message:  _even fighters need comfort, rest, safety.  Accept me, and I will keep you just as warm._

     Moon did not seek her out and offer himself to her.  He did not reject her either; the gifts were not placed back on the steps of her own bower.  He wanted them, plainly, but he left them where she'd put them.  Refusing to play the game at all.  Most frustrating.

     But she'd begun to learn about him, as she talked to the Arbora while waiting for his response.  "He's a _twitchy_ thing," said Knell, twitching his own tail as if his prey-sense had been stirred by the memory.  "Figures, I guess.  A solitary would have to be hair-triggered to have survived this long with no one to watch his back.  But I hope he calms down sometime, now that he's been adopted into a court.  It's a little unnerving, the way he jumps at every shadow." 

     Bone, perched in Raksuran form on a nearby railing during this conversation, rubbed a hand over his chin, thoughtful.  "Probably a tough bastard," he mused, and Jade suppressed a smile as he flexed his claws a little, probably wondering if he could get away with challenging a consort to a sparring match.

     Bone and Knell had still been forming their opinions.  There were those, however, who made it very clear that they didn't care for the idea of a solitary as Jade's consort, and she heard plenty from them.  "He shouldn't even be allowed in the colony," said Sand, one of the younger soldiers, shifting inadvertently to Raksuran from sheer pique before he shifted back.  "Solitaries are dangerous, everyone knows that.  Stone's a line-grandfather!  He should know better."

     _He doesn't know Stone very well_ , Jade thought wryly.  But it was the mentors who gave Jade the first clues as to what sort of person Moon really was.  "Poor thing.  He must be terrified," said Flower, much to Jade's surprise.  At Jade's frown, Flower smiled thinly.  "Well, that's not surprising, I suppose.  We _are_ a bit much to deal with, even for people who grew up here!  I wouldn't be surprised if he just decides to quit trying, cut his losses, and flee before we do him any more damage."

     "Damage?" asked Jade, frowning.  "What are you talking about?"  And why was he afraid?  Were the Aeriat tormenting him?  She worked hard to keep her claws sheathed at the thought.

     "Well, think about it," Flower said.  They were down near the nurseries, where Jade had been playing with some of the Arbora clutches.  Wishful thinking.  A fledgling warrior skittered by in Raksuran form, giggling madly as one of the mentor-toddlers ran after him.  "Everyone he meets here, all the comfort and normalcy he sees, is something he couldn't have.  Just by going about our everyday lives, we show him how much he's lost.  Stone says he remembers that makeshift family he had as a fledgling.  Not even a proper court, but still..."  She eyed the toddler, who had tripped and fallen; the warrior came back to help her up, apologizing and brushing away her tears.  "It must be like a knife twisting in him, every moment of every day, being among us.  And now that he has another chance at this sort of life -- well, what if he grows to like it?  And then what if he loses it all again?  Imagine what that must feel like."

     This was not something Jade had considered, and it stunned her.  But as she continued to observe Moon -- a difficult-enough proposition on its own; he was superb at hiding -- she saw that Flower was right.  It was a subtle thing.  Moon was good at hiding his emotions, too.  But Jade had spent years around Stone and Pearl, and Moon was an open book compared to that.  So she saw his ever-present wariness.  The lurking anger that now and again tightened his shoulders, as if he had to constantly fight the desire to resent them for their fortune and happiness.  The yearning and sorrow -- and yes, fear -- that he could not hide, whenever he observed them in turn.

     It bothered her.  She wanted to soothe away that fear and resentment.  She wanted to give him better memories to replace the ones that so plainly tormented him.

     _I've got it bad_ , she thought with rueful irritation, and hoped Pearl did not notice.

     It did not help that Moon's groundling form was just as beautiful as his Raksuran shape.  All that soft, vulnerable bronze skin; those great wary green eyes, framed by long black lashes; that slim strong body, which she suspected had done much to charm the groundlings he'd lived among.  She'd had to flee, the second time she saw him up close, lest she leap on him and do something unthinkable -- the urge was that strong.  When she'd regained control of herself, she came back to watch him from the shadows of the central shaft, mostly in sheer fascination for the way he moved.  He was graceful, despite his tension.  His careless unawareness of his own beauty had Chime and half the Arbora in love with him already.  Jade did not blame them at all.

     Sometimes she lay awake for hours imagining Moon beneath her.  This was just instinct, and she knew it; with no other suitable consorts to choose from, naturally some part of her hungered for Moon due to his sheer availability.  _It's a queen's instinct to possess,_ Pearl had told her, long ago when they still talked.  _The Arbora have tried to tame that out of us, and they had to give up.  It's just our nature.  Accept it and deal with it._  

     But there was more to her craving for Moon than that, she realized.  If he had been stupid or ugly, she could have ignored the urges easily.  She struggled with them because even with no bloodline, even as a solitary, he was everything she'd ever wanted in a consort, and then some.

     So let herself she crave the taste of his skin, the scent of his hair.  She imagined all the ways she would coax him to release again and again, once she had him -- and strong as he was, she felt certain he would be gifted with the stamina that all the most fabled consorts possessed in the old tales.  He would be hungry and quick to rouse and responsive to her every touch, capable of filling her belly with a full clutch of babies in a single night if she wanted.  She was half feverish when she finally got up and went prowling one night, eventually surprising Vine on his way back from a guard-shift.  Vine was her mother's man -- but Vine was also a canny older warrior, and he knew that look in a queen's eyes.  In his bower he lasted almost as long as a consort -- enough to ease the worst of her craving, and when the fires cooled, Jade licked his chin in tacit apology.  He nuzzled her gently, understanding, and said nothing of the episode thereafter, not even to Pearl.

     She was grateful for Vine's kindness during the next day's gathering.  That helped her to stand still while Pearl enticed Moon, when what Jade really wanted to do was fly across the gathering chamber and rip them apart.  (Then rip off Pearl's arms.)  That would have been the act of a child, not a sister queen, and it was probably why Pearl had done it.  It did not help, however, that Moon went to her, entranced -- at least at first.  That was harder to watch.  It felt like a betrayal.  Didn't he know that Jade wanted him?  But Jade reminded herself of Stone's words:  Moon was a person, not an object to be fought over.  If he chose Pearl, what right did she have to feel insulted?

     Still, she could not help a small vindictive thrill when Moon not only rejected Pearl, but snarled defiance and fled in an offended huff.

     "Maybe you should go after him," whispered Balm in her ear -- but Jade shook her head, curling her tail in smug satisfaction.  There was no need.  She had spoken for Moon's integrity before the entire court; he would notice that. And she understood at last why he had rejected her gifts; they had been the wrong gifts.  Moon did not need trinkets or even weapons.  He needed trust.  Respect.  People who would not use or hurt or try to control him.

     And now that she knew what _he_ wanted, it was only a matter of time before she got what _she_ wanted.

***

     On the trip to the Yellow Sea Jade studied her quarry more as she waited for the right time to approach.  He liked being useful, her Moon.  Most unconsortlike behavior -- but there was no reticence in his offers to help, to hunt, to scout.  Indeed, seeing how he fought when the cloud-walker attacked -- he'd actually taken on a Fell ruler and held his own -- she began to realize that she would never be able to keep him out of harm's way, not fully.  He was too strong, too capable to taking care of himself, too used to taking risks.  In theory this should have made him a poor choice as a consort.  What queen wanted the father of her children to risk his life at every opportunity?

     But Jade reflected even as she pulled him out of the Yellow Sea:  it wasn't as though Indigo Cloud was the safest of courts.  They had never been lucky, and of late they'd endured more than their share of hardships.  Perhaps a consort who could handle himself had a better chance of giving her clutches than one who hid and let others fight his battles.

     She went to Moon on a quiet evening and began to make her case.  To her surprise and pleasure, he did not flee.  Indeed, he actually talked to her, explaining why he'd rejected her gifts -- and confirming by his tension that he was interested.  Heartened by this, she experimented with touching him gently, speaking softly, letting him breathe her scent.  Testing his boundaries.  This was almost her undoing, for he responded to her caresses with an artless lack of inhibition that not even her dreams had suggested.  And when he uttered a soft cry at the press of her teeth, her vision went red with raw need.

     But here was the proof that he knew nothing of matters between queens and consorts, for he fled then, mumbling something that Jade did not hear because it was taking everything she had not to leap on him, pin him down, and please herself.  It was simply not done for a consort to yield to that degree, then not submit wholly.  No gently-raised consort would have done so -- or rather, no gently-raised would have been surprised to be taken anyway, against his will, by a queen roused to the point of no return.

     But Jade fought her own instincts, setting her claws into the ship's wooden rooftop and growling to herself and thinking of anything, anything, _anything_ other than hunting him down and making him hers.  Because even through the red haze, she knew:  doing that would drive him away, and she would lose him forever.  He _did_ want her; desire had transformed his scent into the richest of perfumes.  She _could_ win him, with care.  If she could just be patient, just control herself a bit longer...

     It was the fear on his face that helped her ease back from the brink.  She did not like that.  So she drew deep breaths over her tongue -- upwind from him -- made herself shift to Arbora and back just to relax, then only when she felt she could control herself, flew over to speak with him again.  He almost fled that time, which cooled her instincts further.  She apologized and was relieved when some of the flight-tension went out of him.  She was not sure her words were coherent; _thinking_ was still difficult.  But perhaps he understood that she would not take him against his will.  She decided that this was progress.  It was the only thing that helped her sleep that night. 

     Though tossing Root off the ship helped.

***

     But then the Fell had come to Indigo Cloud.

     It was, Jade would reflect much later -- after the long journey to find the poison, after winning the colony back, after the battle at the Dwei hive and the decision at last to abandon the only home she'd ever known -- a strange sort of lesson for her.  She had previously been unable to imagine Moon's life, or the losses that had made him so strange, but now she could.  Yet to endure them as an adult had been difficult enough:  how much more terrible to suffer through them as a child, alone?  She thought of this as she mourned her fallen comrades, and when the court sang for them, she sang for Moon's lost family, too.

     It had not been what she'd expected, mating with him, when the moment finally came.  With the colony's future so uncertain, with Moon's own past so vividly and cruelly returning to stalk his present, the sex had been less a taking than a sharing.  She had not claimed him, in part to leave him the chance for a life at Wind Sun, and in part because she no longer felt she had the right.  He deserved a queen who could offer him a proper home and the safety he'd spent so long without.  She had needed as much comfort from him as he'd taken from her.

     It had been good.  Successful, by all measures; he'd given her plenty of seed, though she'd known it would be foolish to start a clutch under the circumstances.  More importantly, he'd all but begged her to take him as her consort afterward.  (She felt some smugness for that, and for the glazed, stunned look on his face when they'd finished.)  But it had not at all been the careful, luxurious seduction she'd planned for him for all those weeks.  He loved her -- a humbling realization, given that she wasn't certain she'd earned his love yet -- but she wanted more.

     She wanted him to _need_ her.  To melt for her, beg for her.  She wanted to exhaust him with pleasure and then coax him to keep going, or to try even if he could not, and weep with frustration for want of her.

     She could not do such things with him hurt -- though she made certain to mark him, as soon as he could endure the bite, lest Pearl get any more ideas.  And she slept with him every day, though he was too weak for anything but cuddling, because he so clearly liked having her nearby.  Her presence was what he needed, _all_ he needed. Rain had been right about this being the key to a consort's heart.

     "Jade," he murmured one day, against her neck.  They had been drowsing together, enjoying the silence of early morning.  No one on the ship was awake yet to judge by the sounds outside their cabin -- or at least, no one was _loudly_ awake.  As a queen, Jade could command some privacy, for which she had never been more grateful.  Bereft of anything better to do, most of the court spent its early mornings and evenings in bed having sex.  Given Jade's current level of frustration, she was glad she could hear none of it.

     But then to her surprise, Moon pressed against her, letting her know that he, too, had suffered some frustration.  When Jade moved away, worried -- perhaps part of him was ready, but the rest of him was still healing -- he made a sound of protest and very gently bit her collarbone.  "Please."

     "Moon, I don't want to hurt you."

     "Then don't."  He nuzzled under her chin, then slid a hand down her belly, fingers teasing their way between her legs.  She shivered and growled and had to work hard to focus on his words.  "Be gentle.  Go slow.  I can do it if you go slow.  In fact -- "  He hesitated.  "It might be nice if you go slow."  Then he looked up at her through his lashes shyly, probably not at all intending the pure seduction she read in his face.  "And if it hurts a little, that's okay too.  I'm strong, Jade.  I'll heal."

     After a proposition like that, how could she refuse?

     She took great care in positioning him.  The danger was that he would forget his injuries in a moment of distraction, and move in some way that might disturb the fragile knitting of his bones and muscles.  It would be best if he couldn't move at all -- and that abruptly gave her an idea.

     A _very interesting_ idea.

     She got up, ignoring the little sound of protest he made.  He brightened when she returned, though a look of puzzlement crossed his face when he saw her hands full of brightly-colored silk sashes she'd found in one of the storage baskets.  The silk looked filmy and delicate, but like most Arbora-made work, it was deceptively strong.  She crouched beside him, balancing on her tail, and rested a hand on his chest.  (He all but purred beneath her hand.)  "Do you trust me?" she asked.

     He thought about it.  She didn't like that -- but, she supposed, some things between them would still take time.  "Yes," he said, finally.  "What are you going to do?"

     "This."  She took his injured arm, which was already bound in a sling, and wrapped a broad swath of silk around it, tying it closer to his body.  He would be unable to move it even in the limited way he had.

     "Oh.  Right.  I always want to touch you back."  He blushed a little.  "It's wise to keep me from doing that."

     "Yes," she said.  Then she took his other hand, the uninjured one.  "But you also like to curl up to me, and I can't let you do that, either."

     His eyes widened.  But he did not resist as, very gently, Jade lifted his arm above his head and tied the wrist to a nearby table-leg.  He could probably move that; he was more than strong enough.  But she would hear the table move, if he tried, and she thought she could hold it down.

     "And this," she said, tying another swath of cloth across his chest.  This she bound around the bedding itself, so that it would drag him down -- again not enough to prevent movement altogether, but inhibiting enough that he would lessen his chances of injury.  "And these."  She pushed the blankets back and tied each of his ankles.  There were loops of metal set into the wooden floor, so that furniture could be tied in place during windstorms; with these, she was able to make his legs completely movement-proof.  This wasn't really necessary; he hadn't hurt his legs.  But she liked the idea of him being completely helpless while she toyed with him.

     He liked the idea too, she realized as she finished tying his legs.  He was watching her, his eyes brighter than usual, his breath a little quicker.  She trailed her fingertips up his legs and torso as she moved back up to inspect him, straddling his body as she did so, and he trembled, making a little sound of need when she pressed against him.

     "Good?" she asked.

     "Good."  His voice was rough.  "Groundlings do this, you know.  As a, a game, during mating.  A game of trust."

     "Do they?"  She tightened her thighs around his hips, rocking gently to tease him.  He let out a single breath in three harsh pants, then focused on her with an effort.

     "Y-yes.  They h-have a word for it.  I don't remember what.  No one ever played it with me."

     Because naturally a game of trust would _require_ trust first, and Moon had been too afraid of the groundlings to offer that, even to his lovers.  Jade smiled, pleased that no one else had ever done this with him.  "Do you like it so far?"

     He made a soft sound that told her in no uncertain terms that he did like it.  Then he shifted his hips, trying to raise himself to meet her.  She rose with him, keeping just out of his reach; he groaned in frustration.  "That depends on h-how long you make me wait," he breathed.

     She made him wait for a long time.  It was just too much fun, tormenting him, stroking his body and watching him undulate, biting his throat until he gasped out her name, his larynx vibrating against her lips.  When she finally joined their bodies he would have cried out, but she muffled this by nibbling on his lower lip.  She went slow, partly out of consideration for his injuries and partly for the sheer delight of watching his face as he went from aroused to desperate to wild and almost mindless.  Sweat drenched his body and he tossed his head from side to side, whimpering as she moved but unable to do much in return except beg her to finish, finish, finish, please, please, please.  When she finally let him go, he bucked upward as much as the bindings would allow and _roared_ , with all the vibrant basso depth of a consort in his prime, despite being in groundling form.  It was exquisite, Jade thought, even as she shivered through her own pleasure.  All his strength, all his wariness; the untameable feral consort, leashed. He had let his fear go, given himself wholly over to her, and there could be no submission more complete.

     And she had finally gotten herself the best consort ever. Rain had been right, but Stone had been right, too; she was glad she had listened to both. She would do whatever it took to stay worthy of him.

***

     There was an embarassing moment afterward when Flower and Chime and Heart all rushed into the room to see what had made Moon shake the ship with his cry.  Jade had still been on top of him, though she shifted and moved her wings into place to give them a little privacy.  Chime had been shocked, Heart delighted; half-sheepish and half-smug, Jade could only grin at them.  Flower, however, had only shaken her head and sighed, shooing the others out.  Before she'd closed the door, she'd said, "You all right, Moon?  No pain?"

     "No pain," he half-groaned from within the shelter of Jade's wings, still breathless.  They could see nothing but his silk-tied hand, flapping weakly.  "Just fine, everything's fine, wonderful, never better."

     Flower rolled her eyes.  " _Young people_.  Well, I'll come back to check on you later.  No more of this, you two, now that you've scratched the itch.  He still needs his strength to heal, so you'll just have to restrain yourselves."

     With that, Jade grinned down at Moon.  " _Restrain_ ourselves?  I think we can do that."

     Moon laughed in a beautiful, half-delirious way.  "Yes.  No problem, that.  Oh yes."

     Flower blushed a delicate rose beneath her white coloring.  "Good grief," she muttered, and left.

     Jade untied Moon carefully, making sure he hadn't chafed or bruised anywhere.  She licked his wrists and ankles, just to be sure, and he reached down to tangle his fingers in her frills.  "Quit that.  Or we'll make Flower mad."

     "Mustn't do that," Jade said, settling beside him and pulling the blankets back into place.  "Not 'til tomorrow, anyway."

     He growled a little in anticipation, tucking his head under her chin.  "Yes.  Tomorrow."  He paused.  "And when I'm healed, maybe we can keep doing this.  The game, I mean.  With the sashes."

     She liked the sound of that.  "Maybe."

     "Maybe I can tie _you_ down."  She felt a bit of tension in him; was he worried she wouldn't like the idea?  But how could she not, after seeing its effect on him?

     "Definitely," she said, and he grinned.

     "I can't wait," he breathed, then settled down at last to rest.  She stayed quiet while he drifted off to sleep, his deep slow breaths sounding easier and more even than they had before.  The sex had been good for him, no matter how badly Flower now thought of Jade's caretaking skills.

     "Neither can I," she whispered into his hair, and settled down herself for a nap, and sweet possessive dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, it's hard writing smut about characters when you're not even sure how their anatomy works Down There! Hoped I kept it steamy despite this logistical quandry.


End file.
